Daily Yellowstone journal., 1887-06-30

changed letters n, ularly two or three
times O week.
Aunt Sarah's nose was in a perpetual
state Of elevation, and her comments bit
terly cutting regarding Miles imbecility,
but while those dear letters were bringing
constant assurances of Interchangeable de-
votion Mile only laughed at her aunt's
sarcasms.
Toward the middle Of the year Wills
letters occasionally failed to arrive upon
the expected day and Mile would suffer
keen disappointment. The u offered
for the remissness was always reasonable,
and then Mile would chide herself for
entertaining one moment doubt of her
absent loved one.
Wills letters were full Of descriptions
of the gay society Of which he WA evil
IDENTIFY O favorite.
Sometimes he alluded to some Of the
young ladies to whom he had paid tri-
fling attention, ''just for convenience
sake" but always wrote that the remem-
brance of ''his own little Mile" kept
him from falling captive to the charms Of
the city bellies.
After a while he ceased mentioning
any Of the parties that he attended or the
fair ladies that he met. His letters grew
short and unsatisfactory. He seemed to
be always ''in hurry" and Every busy"
Mile was a high spirited little girl and
tried not TO let him know how much she
felt his neglect, 30 she cultivated tardi-
ness and crispness in her letters, Ito show
him that she could be as cool as he"
II is the easiest thing in the world for a
correspondence between lovers to go
wrong. II the green eyed monster il
looking over ones shoulder and pointing
sneeringly ut a sentence its meaning ID
almost sure to be misconstrued. Without
the expressive human voice the English
language may be interpreted many diff.
ferent ways.
When Mile had once allowed this feel.
ing of resentment and suspicion to enter
her mind Wills letters no longer gave her
pleasure.
All of Aunt Sarah's dismal prophecies
occurred to her as dismal truths.
II is natural for masculine natures Il
rebel against any sort of reproaches or q
disposition to be exacting on the part Of Q
promised wife; also, to value least the
love which they possess. Mile had
shown viii Marston that she loved him,
and, feeling sure Of her, he could afford
to be a little careless.
II Mile had exercised a little tact,
which, by the way, is not often prac'
ticed by q girl Of II, all might have beer
well.
Win was too honorable to deliberately
break a promise, and would undoubtedly
have come in June IL Mile had not be
fore that time become persuaded that h
no longer loved her, and, in Q moment
of offended pride, asked to be released
from her engagement. Perhaps sh,
hoped he might protest against her de
cision and tenderly beg forgiveness, bu
he merely wrote that she had left him n,
alternative but to grant her request.
Then all the treasured letters and tn,
pretty diamond engagement ring wer'
returned, and Mile thought that he
heart was broken, but hearts do no
break 10 easily, as in u agony we some
times wish they did.
Millie tried to be brave and give m
sign Of the suffering which took ava.
her bloom and made her old while young
She had been &c rich In hope and low
and pleasant thoughts, and It SCENE,
cruel to be ~bankrupted Of them all
Never in all her lonely girlhood had sh'
so longed for a mother loving heart AM
a mothers sheltering arms as then
Sometimes when alone in her scantil,
furnished little room she would throw
herself upon her bed and cry: "Oh
mother, mother, il ! could die and b
at rest with you"
About this time Mr.. Knowls was take
very i'll, and Mile began a ministry h
the sick room.
Her whole interest came to be centere,
by her fathers bedside. THE merginI
of the less trouble into the greater" wa
experienced by Millie in those days.
The spring came with the song Of bird
and bleating Of young lambs in tn
meadow pastures, and Mile learned in
roundabout way through one of he
school friends that VIII Marston was 70
ing TO marry a beautiful and accom-
plished heiress, but il seemed to be tn
concern Of some one whom she ha'
known in the past rather than of thi
Mile Knowls, who, pale and anxious
passed her days by her fathers sick bed
soothing his passage through that storm,
valley which leads to the land beyond a
storms.
The wheat fields had grown yellow
and all nature was rejoicing in gloriou
midsummer, when Mile followed he
father to his grave. A more desolate OF
phan never lived. Life that had been 9
sweet and dear only a few short month
ago seemed o a dismal thing to loo
forward to. Mile wondered how sh
could bear the long, tedious days an
months and years that were in all proba
bility ahead Of her.
Her splendid health actually seemed
misfortune. She wished that there wa
some chance Of her dying young.
There is no pity in the stern, solemI
DEGREES Of fate; we must accept lbs term
and live out the appointed measure Of on
days.
So Mile learned the lesson Of en
durance that countless thousands Q
other stricken hearts have been compelle
to learn.
She went to her lonely home with he
Aunt Sarah and tried to be cheerful an
industrious, but her loneliness was into
cradle. Living in seclusion with he
spinster aunt, who never loved her or ha
n sympathetic or congenial though
with her. the poor child had all the NOR
power Of suffering impatient pain an